


Happy Birthday, Baby

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Series: The Tuna Melt-verse [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 12:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20258452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: Maggie Rogers turns 21, and the occasion is appropriately marked.





	Happy Birthday, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's Jason's Birthday this week, but this started writing itself first. He'll get one, too, eventually.

_Near, far_  
_Wherever you are_  
_I believe that the heart does go on_  
_Once more you open the door_  
_And you’re here in my heart  
_ _And my heart will go on and on_

Margaret Sarah Rogers sits up slowly, blinking the sleep away from her eyes as her phone alarm plays the most annoying song in the world from across her bedroom.

It does the trick for her every morning, getting her out of bed messily and stumbling over to her dresser to shut it off. She yelps a little as her feet hit cold wooden floors. 

Winters on the East Coast are no joke, though she always assumed she would one day be used to them, since she’s lived nowhere else since she was two years old. 

Maggie lifts her phone and shuts the alarm off, and squints at the time and date.

5:45 AM  
December 1st. 

She grins and pushes her hair away from her face. “Happy birthday to me,” she says softly to herself, just as her alarm starts going off again, Celine Dion’s voice coming through.

“Gah! No!” 

***** 

Showered and dressed, ready for her day, she makes herself a cup of coffee and takes a selfie with it, posting it to her Instagram account. 

It’s an odd experience, having so many followers. Between her career and her very well-known family, over twenty thousand people follow her.

**AmericanMagpie**: “Enjoying my first cup of coffee as a newly minted 21 year-old. No, it is not Irish. It’s a work day.” ;) #birthdaygirl #goodmorningDC 

She gets plenty of likes, and a few comments. Some read “happy birthday!” some read “God ur Hot,” and some read “Die libtard whore.”

So nothing new. 

Maggie checks her newsfeed as she sips her coffee and blinks when there’s a knock on the door. 

“It’s not even seven-thirty,” she mutters, getting up and shuffling over to look through the peep hole, smiling widely when she sees who it is. 

When she swings it open, Happy Hogan grins at her. 

“There’s the birthday girl.” 

“Uncle Happy, it’s so early!” she cries, hugging him tightly. “What are you doing here?” 

“There was something at the DC office Pepper needed me to pick up while she and Tony are at that conference in Germany,” Happy explains, waving the hand that’s not behind his back. “Figured I’d drop off their birthday gift, maybe take you out for a pastry.” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“Don’t you argue with me,” Happy points at her sternly before pulling a long brown paper bag from behind his back and handing it to her. 

Maggie smiles and takes it, opening it up on a very old bottle of wine with a note taped to it. 

_To our favorite family documentarian on her twenty-first birthday. We found this historical curiosity in the wine cellar in the old Stark Manhattan brownstone: A Chateau Latour from France, 1942. Salut, Maggie Mae! _  
_Lots of love -  
_ _Aunt Pep and Uncle Tony _

“That’s the year Dad got the serum,” Maggie says softly, smiling and looking it over.

“Get your stuff. C’mon.” 

She hurries inside, setting the wine down on the counter, grabbing her bag and slipping on her shoes, and pouring her coffee into a to-go cup along with one for Happy as well. 

Soon, Maggie is bundled up and walking along with Happy after taking a Lyft towards Lafayette Square Park, pastries in hand as they head towards the White House.

“So they gonna give you shit today in the press pool?” Happy asks, grinning as he takes a bite of his old-fashioned cruller. 

She shrugs. “They always do, so today won’t be any different from any other day of my life. But they mean it in good fun. Mostly. The Fox News guys are usually pretty mean, though.” 

“You want me to go in with you?” Happy asks. “I can go in with you.” 

“I’m okay,” Maggie promises as she munches on her cherry danish. “But if you wanted, I could probably get you into one of the White House tours they’re doing today.” 

“Nah, I gotta get back to Midtown before three,” Happy says, chugging some of his coffee. “Oof. This stuff is great!” 

“Wakandan,” Maggie tells him. “Early birthday gift from T’Challa and Shuri, they sent like eight pounds.” 

“That would be why.” They stop in front of the White House and Happy grins at her. “You got plans with that boyfriend of yours tonight?” 

“Mhm!” she replies happily. “Jason is cooking me dinner.” 

“That’s sweet,” Happy says. “If he hurts you, I’ll rip his lungs out.” 

“Happy.” 

He leans in and kisses her forehead. “Happy birthday, Sunshine.” 

She beams and hugs him tightly. “Thank you. Have a safe trip back.” 

They wave to each other, and Maggie takes a deep breath before pulling out her credentials and heading in out of the cold. 

***** 

“Happy birthday, Kid,” Danny says as she pulls off her coat and takes her seat next to him in the press room. “Thought you’d wanna take a vacation day today.” 

“Eh,” she shrugs with a grin as she gets set up. “I’d rather be here.” 

“Big plans after work?” he asks. 

“Just dinner with Jason,” Maggie grins. “Although I’ve already gotten two very nice birthday gifts.” 

“I can smell one of ‘em,” Danny grumbles. “You got Wakandan coffee and didn’t bring any to share.” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“I’m holdin’ ya to that,” Danny teases. 

Things get started quickly after that, with CJ taking the podium, talking about General Ross’s ongoing trial, and decisions being made about when the Joker’s will be. 

She raises her hand with a question. 

“Yes, birthday girl?” CJ asks, grinning at her. 

Maggie huffs. 

“In case everybody didn’t know, it is Maggie Rogers’ twenty-first birthday today, and as she is the youngest member of the press corps, it is my job to tease the living daylights out of her until she cannot take it anymore,” CJ smirks as everyone laughs softly, before looking back at her. “Question?” 

“Has it been decided where the Joker will be tried?” Maggie asks. “Are the Gotham courts asking for that?”

CJ nods. “They have indeed asked, but considering how many times the Joker has been remanded to Arkham without so much as a slap on the wrist, the Congressional committee has blocked the request. It’s looking more and more like the Joker will be tried here in DC. The President will be taking the stand in front of the committee next week, and while Batman’s presence has been requested, we’ve been told he has not responded as of yet. There’s been talk of issuing a subpoena, but no one knows where to issue it to. Since he’s Batman.” 

The room chuckles. 

“That’s it until 2:30, but before we scatter, how about a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for the birthday girl?!” 

Maggie sinks in her seat and snickers a little as they all start to sing. “Oh no.” 

***** 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Sunshine, happy birthday!” 

Maggie smiles. “Thanks, Mom.” 

“Today’s good so far?” 

“Yeah. Happy bought me a pastry and CJ Cregg led a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday this morning.” 

Zondra laughs a little. “Anybody try and get you drunk yet?” 

“No, but I”m sure that’s coming,” Maggie grins. “How are you? Where are you?” 

“I’m good!” her mother says, but she can hear shouting in the background. “I’m...outta town this week.” 

“Mom. What happened to retirement?” Maggie scolds her playfully. 

“I’m working on it, I promise,” Zondra tells her flippantly. “Happy birthday, Sunshine. I love you. I’ll see you when I’m back in the States, okay? We’ll go out dancing, drink some shots!” 

“Okay,” Maggie says as she heads out for lunch. “Love you. Bye.” 

She hangs up and sighs as she heads to her favorite cafe for lunch. Once she’s there, Maggie settles down in a small booth, reaching into her bag for the little bottle of ibuprofen she keeps. She frowns when she grabs hold of an envelope she doesn’t remember being there before, and pulls it out. 

Attached to it is a little yellow sticky note that says “Made ya look!” in Happy’s handwriting. 

Maggie laughs and shakes her head, knowing he probably dropped it into her bag when they hugged goodbye. 

She takes a breath and smiles up at the waitress, ordering a pastrami on rye and a Coke before turning her attention back to the envelope. 

Underneath the sticky note is one word in her father’s handwriting: 

_Magpie_

She opens the envelope quickly and starts reading.

_My phone had less than 5% battery power left the first time I held you in my arms. It’s the only reason I knew to put December 1st, 5:09 AM EST (twenty-one years ago today) on your birth certificate when we finally made it home from Zola’s hellscape._

_You were two when we got back, and we were both covered in mud and grime and you cried straight through your first real bath, but you were good as gold after that and ever since._

_I named you myself, stuck in Dimension Z with nothing but that old shield and the clothes on my back to get us through. Margaret Sarah, after the two women I thought about the most back in those days; both long passed, but their influences were still with me._

_Even now, sometimes: “What would Peggy do? What would Ma do?” _

_You have done those women so proud with every single step you take in this world. Be proud of who you are, Maggie. I know they would be, and your mother and I are every day._

_Twenty-one is a good age. Old enough, but not quite old enough to know better. Have fun. Make mistakes. Don’t let anybody tell you who you are, or what you’re worth. You know those things already, and you’ve shown it time and again._

_You are one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. When I think of Dimension Z, and being trapped there for so long, sometimes my mind will wander and I’ll get angry. Then I remember that without it, I wouldn’t have you, and my life wouldn’t be as wonderful as it is here and now._

_ You make my days brighter with every text message or phone call. I smile every time I see one of your posts on social media, and I beam with pride every time I read a new article you’ve written._

_Sometimes you make me smile so wide, I think my whole face is gonna crack open. _

_I’m okay with that._

_Happy birthday, Magpie. _

_Love,  
Dad_

“Uhm. Miss? Are you okay?” 

Maggie looks up at the waitress and realizes she’s sniffling. She smiles and shrugs. “Yep! Sorry.” She wipes her eyes with her arm and thanks the woman for her Coke and sandwich before looking back down at the letter. 

_PS: See you for a drink after work today. Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in time for your dinner date._

She grins and digs into her sandwich. 

***** 

The rest of the day rushes by in a flurry of birthday texts from family and friends and well wishes from coworkers and White House staff. 

“Maggie!” 

She turns and stands up very straight. “Mr. President.” 

He beams and walks over, hugging her gently. “Happy birthday. How does twenty-one feel so far?” 

“Not so different from twenty,” Maggie smiles back. “But that’ll change tonight after work, I’m sure.” 

“Your father coming down for your first legal drink?” 

“So he says,” Maggie replies. 

“Well, you have a good time,” he assures her. “But not too good!” He stops when one of the Secret Service members mutters in his ear, and he nods. “Apparently the Prince of Asgard has landed in the Rose Garden, but he’s not here for me, he’s here for you.” 

Maggie’s eyes widen and she stammers. “Uh...I told him not to do that.” 

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about superheroes over the years, it’s that they have selective hearing,” Bartlet chuckles. “Go say hello to your uncle before your next press briefing.”

“Thanks!” She cries, taking off down the hall. “Bye! Thanks!” 

She can hear the President chuckling behind her as she dashes through the White House. 

*****

Thor is indeed wandering around the Rose Garden peacefully, is if it isn’t freezing cold and looking like it might snow. 

“Ah! There is the birthday girl!” he booms, stepping over to envelop her in a tight hug. “Happy birthday, Little Margaret.” 

Maggie laughs and hugs him back. “Didn’t I tell you not to visit me at work? You’re gonna scare the natives.” 

“If Superman is allowed to just show up at the President’s back door, then so am I,” Thor says haughtily as he pulls away before beaming at her. “Are you having a nice birthday?” 

“I am,” Maggie smiles. “Happy visited, and I got a nice letter from Dad.” 

“Well, I’ve come to bestow upon you two birthday gifts,” he tells her, poking her nose gently. “The first marks the occasion at hand, and the second is sheer tradition.” 

With that, he opens up the satchel he’s carrying and pulls out a small jug filled with amber liquid. “This is Asgardian ale. It’s rather light, so you should be able to handle it well.” 

She takes it and looks one way and then the other before starting to take a sip. 

“Margaret,” Thor scolds. “You’re not to have your first legal drink until tonight.” 

Maggie pouts a little and recaps the jug. “Fine.” 

He chuckles. “And one gift that is our tradition.” From his bag, he pulls a large jar of rainbow sprinkles and hands them to her. 

Maggie takes them clumsily. “Thank you.” She reaches up and kisses his cheek. “You are the best.” 

“Well, I certainly try,” Thor grins, hugging her one more time. “Happy birthday, clever little Maggie.” 

***** 

“I gotta ask, why sprinkles?” Danny asks as they get back to the press room. 

Maggie stows them and the ale in her bag as best she can. “Because my dad wouldn't let him give me a battle ax when I was a little girl, so he got me rainbow sprinkles. And he has every year since.” 

“Cute,” Danny muses. “Can I have a sip of ale?” 

“No,” Maggie snaps.

***** 

When she gets back to her apartment in the early evening, it’s to find a heap of gifts by her door. 

An entire gift basket of home spa products from Aunt Natasha. 

A heartfelt card from Uncle Bruce. 

Flowers from Uncle Sam and Aunt Sharon. 

Wakandan chocolate from Uncle Bucky. 

Balloons from Uncle Clint and Aunt Laura.

A NewEgg gift card from Uncle Peter and Aunt MJ. 

Her phone is much worse: dozens of text messages. Annie’s big all caps “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BITCH!” and Morgan’s less-wild “Happy birthday, girl! Love you!” Her brother’s “Happy B-day M!! Love you sis!” and her kid sister’s is nothing but a birthday cake emoji and a heart.

She tries to answer them all as she wrestles the gifts into her apartment, only for a pair of strong hands to take a few items from her. 

“Need a hand?” 

Maggie smiles up at her father. “Hi!” 

“Hi, Birthday Girl,” Steve grins, kissing her cheek before helping her get everything into the apartment. “You really cleaned up this year, huh?” 

“Well, I guess nobody forgot,” Maggie jokes as she sets the jug of ale and the jar of sprinkles on the kitchen bar next to the bottle of wine from Tony and Pepper. 

Steve walks over, reading the bottle with a low whistle. “Nineteen forty-two, huh? I remember that year.” 

“I bet you do,” Maggie teases. “So? Did you wanna go out for that drink?” 

“Well, you got perfectly nice wine right here,” Steve jokes. “Seems silly to bother.” 

Maggie laughs softly and opens up the kitchen cupboards, pulling out a couple of wine glasses and a cork screw. 

“I guess you read my letter.” 

“I did,” Maggie tells him. “I’m glad I was on a lunch break. It made me cry.” 

“Aw, Magpie, I didn’t mean-” 

“It was a good cry,” she assures him, as she takes the bottle from his hands. “Okay. Let’s pop this sucker!” 

Steve chuckles and stands back, watching as Maggie does her best to open the bottle. “I think you’re supposed to let it breathe before pouring it, right?” 

“I guess so,” Maggie shrugs. “I don’t know much about fancy old wine, do you?” 

“Sometimes your Aunt Pepper would talk about it, and I would pretend not to fall asleep,” Steve jokes.

Maggie snorts as she gets the bottle open.

***** 

She makes it to Jason’s place a little after eight, right on schedule, stepping out of the Lyft and thanking her driver before smoothing out her dress (a flowy blue, hitting just at her knees and showing off a nice amount of cleavage), and walking up the driveway and to the front door.

She knocks and realizes that it’s not as steady as usual.

Possibly because she wound up splitting that bottle of wine with her father, and now she’s a little tipsy.

The door opens and Jason grins at her. “Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Happy birthday.” 

“Hi!” she chirps, wrapping her arms around him and smiling. “So, fair warning, my dad stopped by and we split a bottle of wine.” 

Jason smirks and looks over her shoulder onto the front porch. “He come with you?” 

“Nooo no no.” 

“Then we’re good,” he promises, wrapping an arm around her and guiding her into the house. “Dinner’s just about ready, so you have a seat.” 

“You’re not mad?” Maggie pouts, stroking the back of his neck, which had obviously been shaved quite recently. 

Jason laughs a little. “You’re supposed to drink on your twenty-first birthday, Mags. It’d be stupid if I was mad.” 

“But I didn’t drink with you.” 

“So what?” Jason shrugs, guiding her into the dining room. “You sit here. I’ll finish dinner.” 

“What are you cooking?” 

“Gruel.” 

“No, you’re not.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I smell chicken. And bread.” 

“Well, I roasted a chicken,” Jason tells her. “And I baked bread.” 

Maggie gasps and gets to her feet, dashing into the kitchen after him. “You baked bread? You baked me bread?” 

Jason chuckles and turned to her with a grin. “You really are pretty tipsy.” 

She pouts and leans on the kitchen island. “Yeah.” 

“It’s seriously okay,” Jason tells her. “You didn’t drive here, right?” 

“I Lyfted,” Maggie tells him. 

“Then it’s okay.” He kisses her cheek and moves around the kitchen, pulling the chicken and vegetables from the oven, and then slicing the bread, before pulling down a water glass and filling it from the tap. “Here. Drink this, get hydrated. We’ll eat, you’ll sober up a little. It’ll be good.” 

“You’re really not mad?” 

“Was it good wine?” Jason asks as he hands her the water. 

She nods as she drinks. “It was amazing. From 1942.” 

“I’m not mad.” 

“I brought other booze,” she tells him, grinning. 

“Oh yeah?” Jason smirks. “Maybe a wine cooler? Some Bud?” 

“Blugh,” Maggie wrinkles her nose. “Way better. Way, way better.” she dashes back to the dining room and comes back with the jug of Asgardian ale. “Uncle Thor dropped this off at work.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Jason asks, grinning as he takes it, looking it over. “It’s got no label. You really trust this stuff?” 

“Not at all,” Maggie laughs. “But Uncle Thor loves me. So I think it’ll probably just get us wasted.” 

Jason shakes his head. “Food first. Go sit.”

“Can I sit in here and watch you cook?” Maggie asks, settling down on a stool before he can respond. “You’re pretty.” 

“You’re the birthday girl,” Jason says with a laugh. “Whatever you want.” 

“How was your day?” she asks. 

“I had another weird journalist asking for an interview. All that ‘Hero of the West Wing’ crap,” he tells her. “Other than that, couple of meetings on the Hill to talk about replacing Hammer Tech military-grade water bottles with Wayne Defense ones.” 

“What’s wrong with the Hammer Tech ones?” 

“They apparently explode in extreme temperatures,” Jason tells her.

Maggie wrinkles her nose. “Is that confidential? Can I write about that?” 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t until the deal’s done.” 

“Can I go out and buy a military-grade Hammer Tech water bottle and put it in my freezer and see what happens and then write about it?” 

“Please do not blow up your freezer.” 

“Can I put it in yours?” 

“Yes.” 

Maggie beams at him. “You’re such a good boyfriend.” 

“Cooked you birthday dinner, got you a gift, all rank below letting you blow up a shitty water bottle in my freezer,” Jason teases her. “That’s why I-” 

He stops and Maggie frowns at him. 

“That’s why you what?” she asks, smiling curiously. 

He stares at her for a long moment, eyes wide. “That’s...why...I...feel like we’re good together,” Jason finishes, grinning at her a little nervously. 

Maggie purses her lips and smiles. 

He stares at her for a long moment, and she thinks she sees fear there in his eyes, but he’s saved by the oven timer’s high-pitched bing. 

“You better get that,” she says softly. 

“Yep!” he cries, turning back around. 

She smiles and watches his butt. 

“Stop that.” 

Maggie pouts. “Fine.” 

***** 

Dinner is delicious, and Maggie eats hungrily, feeling herself sober up as they chat and eat. 

“You said you got me a gift?” Maggie asks, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands flirtily. 

“Maybe.” 

“I know you said it,” Maggie smiles. “I wasn’t that drunk.” 

“Well...it’s definitely not a bottle of wine from 1942,” Jason teases. “I also made dessert. Which do you want first?” 

“Both!” 

“You probably don’t wanna get stains on your birthday gift,” Jason warns her, as he gets to his feet. “So it’s a good thing you’ve sobered up a bit.” 

Maggie turns in her chair, watching him disappear back into the kitchen. “I’m careful! I’m graceful! I can multitask!” 

“Uh-huh,” he calls back. 

She huffs and looks around the dining room, remembering for the first time that night that they are at his place for once, and taking i in accordingly. Generally they spend time at her apartment, since she is usually the one on a deadline, or tight schedule, and in need of quick changes of clothes or her laptop.

The dining room, like the kitchen, is decorated in black and tan colors, making it look more like an art gallery than an eating space; covered in expensive-looking art, with an equally expensive-looking rug on the floor.

“So I mighta gotten you two presents,” Jason admits as he steps back into the room. 

Maggie watches him set a small cheesecake down in the middle of the table. Under his arm are an old-looking envelope and a long, black velvet box.

“You made that?” She asks, pointing to the cheesecake. 

“I did.” 

“It’s not from the Cheesecake Factory?” 

“No,” Jason says. He pauses. “Okay. So. It might be from the cheesecake factory. But I bought it!” 

Maggie laughs and claps her hands together, delighted. “Thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sits back down, holding the two objects in his hands. “Okay. Do you want the normal girlfriend gift first, or the gift for the weirdo who won’t stop digging into obscure history about your family?” 

“Folder, please.” 

Jason smirks and hands it over.

Maggie snatches it and opens it up, reading it quickly and gasping. “The original SSR file on the Howling Commandos!”

He nods, looking pleased with himself. “Yup. Had to pull a couple of very iffy favors.” 

“From who?” Maggie asks, eyes widening as she looks up from the file.

“Somebody who’d be pissed if I name dropped them,” Jason says. “You okay with reading it later?” 

Maggie puts up a finger, buying herself a moment. “There are photos of Dad before the serum. Holy crap was he scrawny!” 

“Hard to believe it’s the same person,” Jason comments. 

“Oh no,” Maggie grins as she closes the folder. “You can tell from his eyebrows and the ‘fuck-you, try me’ look on his face. That's him.” 

Jason laughs. “You want the other gift now?” 

She hugs the folder and nods, smiling at him happily. “Yes, I do.” 

He hands her the box, and she takes it, shaking it playfully. 

“Hmmmm,” she ponders jokingly. “Seems like there might be something metal in here.” 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jason shakes his head. “Open it.” 

She does, on a little diamond pendant in the shape of a star. She freezes as she stares at it. It’s absolutely beautiful. “Jason…” 

When she looks up at him, he shrugs sheepishly. 

“Saw it. Thought of you.” 

“It’s really pretty,” she smiles at him adoringly. “I love it.” 

“Then mission accomplished,” He grins. 

Maggie looks at him, and then at the cheesecake and file folder between them on the table. Realizing that leaning over for a kiss would be strategically messy, she scoots her chair noisily over to sit next to him, leaning over and kissing him as he laughs. 

“You’re a nut.” 

“Yeah, but I’m a nut who doesn’t have cheesecake all over her dress.” 

“Happy birthday, Mags.” 

END


End file.
